Ah, New Year's Eve. An evening that used to necessitate copious amounts of alcohol and almost always end in some form of disappointment. Not this year. This year, I'm all about being with what is.
I started the morning with my kids, and then took them to their Dad's and went off to the gym to go for a run and do some yoga. After that, I went to a coffee shop to do some consulting work and contemplated my options for the evening. Which, in terms of social offerings, were admittedly pretty limited. I'd been invited to a 5:30pm run downtown that ended with beers at a brew pub. But the temperature didn't even reach 10 degrees today, and while I know and like one of the people who was going to be there, it just didn't seem like the thing for me this evening.
I've been wanting to see a couple of movies, and have put the call out to a few friends, not just for tonight but in general -- hey, wanna see a movie -- and I've gotten no takers. I'm not sure how I got here, to this point where I'm feeling pretty socially isolated, but here I am. I know two of my main people moved away in 2013, but it's feeling obvious to me now that I let my circle get too small.
So I took myself to a movie. On New Year's Eve. It took a lot of strength to face seeing people there -- couples, families -- and I knew I would. Madison is a small town and I know a lot of people, even if I don't know a lot of them well. I did my best to channel my dead Nana, who liked to see movies by herself.
Whatever discomfort I was feeling went away when American Hustle started playing. What a phenomenal movie. There was so much to love about it, but most of all, I loved Jennifer Lawrence, and the scene where she sings and dances to this song with her kid watching is absolutely priceless:
When you were young
And your heart was an open book
You used to say, "Live and let live"
(You know you did, you know you did, you know you did)
But if this ever-changing world in which we're livin'
Makes you give in and cry
Say live and let die
Live and let die
Live and let die
Live and let die
What does it matter to ya, when you've got a job to do, you gotta do it well
You gotta give the other fellow Hell
You used to say, "Live and let livin'"
(You know you did, you know you did, you know you did)
But if this ever-changing world in which we're livin'
Makes you give in and cry
Yes, sometimes this ever-changing world in which we live in makes me give in and cry. Quite often, actually. And I think that's ok. What I think needs adjusting in my life is the size of my bubble. It's true that I've been through a lot, and I tend to keep people at bay, except for a select few. And look where it's gotten me -- alone at a movie on NYE.
Thank god for Jennifer Lawrence. She made those two hours some of the most delicious I've ever spent, with or without a companion:
Say, live and let die
Live and let die
Live and let die
Live and let die
Tuesday, December 31, 2013
Monday, December 30, 2013
What Doesn't Kill You Makes You Stronger
After my 90 days of yoga experiment, I made a commitment to myself to stay with my practice as much as possible. Specifically, one of my weekly fitness goals is four hours of practicing yoga, and this means that sometimes I have to practice even when I don't feel like it. I know this is the point of discipline, and I know that it has a purpose, but I also know it can be extremely uncomfortable.
The other day during a particularly hard practice, our pet rabbit pooped on my mat. Yep, I told her, that's exactly how I'm feeling about being here today. My body felt really stiff, so stiff it was hard to do the poses. Eventually, as often happens, I had an opening, in the form of tears, and I experience a much-needed release.
Not so today. I didn't want to practice, I fought it every step of the way, but I did it. For 60 minutes. But I never reached the point of any release, which felt particularly difficult.
Speaking of things that feel difficult, I've recently reconnected with the man I spent three years loving and the last six months trying to get over, which has caused me to reflect on that six months. I remember feeling like I might die if I didn't get to be with him, that I might die if he were to be with someone else. (I'm not being dramatic, I'm trying to explain the strength and depth of my feelings about this.)
But I didn't die. Instead, I emerged with the understanding that there are things I settled for in my last relationship that I'm not going to settle for again, whether with him or with someone else. And I reached a point where I knew I was going to be ok, with him or without him, even if he ends up with someone else.
Kelly Clarkson's wildly overplayed song seems to be the one to mark this day, though it's not a perfect fit by any means. Because while I remember times I sang these words over the last six months with the same bitterness in my voice that she has in hers:
You know the bed feels warmer
Sleeping here alone
You know I dream in color
And do the things I want
And while I do recognize that there are some perks to being single, I'm not going to go all the way to saying the bed feels warmer sleeping alone. It most definitely does not.
But I do think she has a point with her chorus -- it certainly is true of the growth that came for me from a devastating breakup:
What doesn't kill you makes you stronger
Stand a little taller
Doesn't mean I'm lonely when I'm alone
What doesn't kill you makes a fighter
Footsteps even lighter
Doesn't mean I'm over 'cause you're gone
What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, stronger
Just me, myself and I
What doesn't kill you makes you stronger
Stand a little taller
Doesn't mean I'm lonely when I'm alone
I'm mostly ok with being alone. I'm only lonely once in a while. But as I contemplate the year about to begin, I'm not feeling like I'll be spending so much time alone...
The other day during a particularly hard practice, our pet rabbit pooped on my mat. Yep, I told her, that's exactly how I'm feeling about being here today. My body felt really stiff, so stiff it was hard to do the poses. Eventually, as often happens, I had an opening, in the form of tears, and I experience a much-needed release.
Not so today. I didn't want to practice, I fought it every step of the way, but I did it. For 60 minutes. But I never reached the point of any release, which felt particularly difficult.
Speaking of things that feel difficult, I've recently reconnected with the man I spent three years loving and the last six months trying to get over, which has caused me to reflect on that six months. I remember feeling like I might die if I didn't get to be with him, that I might die if he were to be with someone else. (I'm not being dramatic, I'm trying to explain the strength and depth of my feelings about this.)
But I didn't die. Instead, I emerged with the understanding that there are things I settled for in my last relationship that I'm not going to settle for again, whether with him or with someone else. And I reached a point where I knew I was going to be ok, with him or without him, even if he ends up with someone else.
Kelly Clarkson's wildly overplayed song seems to be the one to mark this day, though it's not a perfect fit by any means. Because while I remember times I sang these words over the last six months with the same bitterness in my voice that she has in hers:
You know the bed feels warmer
Sleeping here alone
You know I dream in color
And do the things I want
And while I do recognize that there are some perks to being single, I'm not going to go all the way to saying the bed feels warmer sleeping alone. It most definitely does not.
But I do think she has a point with her chorus -- it certainly is true of the growth that came for me from a devastating breakup:
What doesn't kill you makes you stronger
Stand a little taller
Doesn't mean I'm lonely when I'm alone
What doesn't kill you makes a fighter
Footsteps even lighter
Doesn't mean I'm over 'cause you're gone
What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, stronger
Just me, myself and I
What doesn't kill you makes you stronger
Stand a little taller
Doesn't mean I'm lonely when I'm alone
I'm mostly ok with being alone. I'm only lonely once in a while. But as I contemplate the year about to begin, I'm not feeling like I'll be spending so much time alone...
Sunday, December 29, 2013
Atlas
 |
| Exploring the frozen tundra |
Then we headed out for a rather cold, but awesome walk to Sundance to take in the movie version of the second book in The Hunger Games trilogy, Catching Fire.
The song to mark this day is the one that was playing as the credits rolled, a song that Coldplay wrote just for Katniss and friends:
Some saw the sun
Some saw the smoke
Some heard the gun
Some bent the bow
Sometimes the wire must tense for the note
Caught in the fire, say oh
We're about to explode
Carry your world, I'll carry your world
Carry your world, I'll carry your world
Some far away
Some search for gold
Some dragon to slay
Heaven we hope is just up the road
Show me the way, lord, 'cause I... I'm about to explode
Carry your world, I'll carry your world
Carry your world, I'll carry your world
Carry your world, and all your hurt.
As for me, I'm learning slowly that I can't carry anybody's world and all their hurt, not even my kids'. It's a tough lesson but an important one, because if we carry too much for others, we both rob them of the opportunity for growth and rob ourselves of some of our own vitality.
Lighten your load, yes. But carry your world? Nope. Not anymore...
Saturday, December 28, 2013
The Mother We Share
When I saw the forecast last night I decided that this morning would be a good time for a long run. Temps were in the 30s and the sun was shining brightly as I headed out the door accompanied by Slacker, which was playing the 50 best Alt/Indie songs of the year. What a great way to discover new music!
The last time I'd done this 8 mile route to picnic point and back was in the summer, and it was definitely a different experience running on the snow-covered path out to the point. Usually that's the easiest part of the run since the ground is soft -- today it was the hardest because of the snow.
This song came on while I was on the snow-covered path, contemplating the stark changes of the seasons:
This song came on while I was on the snow-covered path, contemplating the stark changes of the seasons:
Never took your side, never cursed your name
I keep my lips shut tight, until you go-o-oh
We've come as far as we're ever gonna get
Until you realize, that you should go-o-oh
I'm in misery where you can seem as old as your omens
And the mother we share will never keep your proud head from falling
The way is long but you can make it easy on me
And the mother we share will never keep our cold hearts from calling
I don't know what the song is really about, but I heard the mother we share as Earth:
I don't know what the song is really about, but I heard the mother we share as Earth:
In the dead of night, I'm the only one here
And I will cover you, until you go-o-oh
And if I told the truth, I will always be free
And keep a prize with me, until you go-o-oh
I'm in misery where you can seem as old as your omens
And the mother we share will never keep your proud head from falling
The way is long but you can make it easy on me
And the mother we share will never keep our cold hearts from calling
Until the night falls, we're the only ones left
I bet you even know, where we could go-o-oh
And when it all fucks up, you put your head in my hands
It's a souvenir for when you go-o-oh
I'm in misery where you can seem as old as your omens
And the mother we share will never keep your proud head from falling
The way is long but you can make it easy on me
And the mother we share will never keep our cold hearts from calling
Friday, December 27, 2013
All I Want Is You
I was the only one in the office today, so I put on a little music to keep me company. Hearing this song was like hearing from an old friend:
You say you want diamonds on a ring of gold
You say you want your story to remain untold
But all the promises we made
From the cradle to the grave
When all I want is you
You say you'll give me a highway with no one on it
A treasure just to look upon it
All the riches in the night
You say you'll give me eyes in a world of blindness
A river in a time of dryness
A harbour in the tempest
But all the promises we make
From the cradle to the grave
When all I want is you
You say you want your love to work out right
To last with me through the night
You say you want diamonds on a ring of gold
Your story to remain untold
Your love not to grow cold
All the promises we break
From the cradle to the grave
When all I want is you
What an amazing song. I was talking today to a friend about how amazingly strong the fixation on wanting to be with someone can be when we're in the midst of it. It feels like it is worth any price, and it can cause us to do things we might not otherwise imagine ourselves doing. It's difficult, when you're in it, to get much perspective on it, and up until sometime this fall, I was definitely in it:
You
All I want is...you
All I want is...you
All I want is...you
These last six months, I was given a choice: use my broken heart to become bitter and closed, or allow it to open me, to teach me, to ask what's next for me to learn. I chose the latter, and I managed to reach a space where I honestly don't know who I want, because I just want to be with the person who is most able to help me be the best version of myself I can be. I don't know now, but I do trust that it will be revealed before too long...
You say you want diamonds on a ring of gold
You say you want your story to remain untold
But all the promises we made
From the cradle to the grave
When all I want is you
You say you'll give me a highway with no one on it
A treasure just to look upon it
All the riches in the night
You say you'll give me eyes in a world of blindness
A river in a time of dryness
A harbour in the tempest
But all the promises we make
From the cradle to the grave
When all I want is you
You say you want your love to work out right
To last with me through the night
You say you want diamonds on a ring of gold
Your story to remain untold
Your love not to grow cold
All the promises we break
From the cradle to the grave
When all I want is you
What an amazing song. I was talking today to a friend about how amazingly strong the fixation on wanting to be with someone can be when we're in the midst of it. It feels like it is worth any price, and it can cause us to do things we might not otherwise imagine ourselves doing. It's difficult, when you're in it, to get much perspective on it, and up until sometime this fall, I was definitely in it:
You
All I want is...you
All I want is...you
All I want is...you
These last six months, I was given a choice: use my broken heart to become bitter and closed, or allow it to open me, to teach me, to ask what's next for me to learn. I chose the latter, and I managed to reach a space where I honestly don't know who I want, because I just want to be with the person who is most able to help me be the best version of myself I can be. I don't know now, but I do trust that it will be revealed before too long...
Wednesday, December 25, 2013
Feeling of Being
 |
| The winter wonderland I skied through today |
The movie I watched was recommended by a friend. It wasn't easy to watch at times -- it was about a little girl whose parents were hopeless at taking care of her -- but it was a good film and the last song in the soundtrack was this pleasant little number:
Bet you if you sink
You'd swim a little further
And I bet you if you cried
You'd understand me better
So I take a little time just sailing down the river
And I'm throwing out my line to see if I can catch the
Feeling of being
How still the night
Feeling of being
One little light
That's exactly what it feels like I've been doing these past six months. Getting better acquainted with the feeling of being, and with my one, but not-so-little, light. It hasn't been easy, but I've learned a lot about myself.
Where I go from here, I don't know. It feels scary to contemplate going back to a world where I allow myself to be vulnerable in a relationship again, especially after all the pain I've been through:
Wonder if we ever really know each other
And I wonder if we ever find out what were after
And the truth of it is were both winding down the river
And if you could only let go,
Find the hidden silver and the
Feeling of being
How still the night
Feeling of being
One little light
But I reckon that's where the hidden silver is -- in loving someone. The trick is how to hold on to the feeling of being, how to hold on to one's own light, even as we allow others' in...
Tuesday, December 24, 2013
All I Want for Christmas
While my kids and I were hanging out in the living room this Christmas Eve, this song came on Pandora:
I don't want a lot for Christmas
There is just one thing I need
I don't care about the presents
Underneath the Christmas tree
I just want you for my own
More than you could ever know
Make my wish come true
All I want for Christmas
Is you, you yeah
It may seem like a funny song for a single girl to choose to mark Christmas Eve, but truly, there's nothing in my whole life I ever wished harder for than children, and I couldn't be more grateful for the ones I get to call my own:
I don't want a lot for Christmas
There is just one thing I need
And I don't care about the presents
Underneath the Christmas tree
I don't need to hang my stocking
There upon the fireplace
Santa Claus won't make me happy
With a toy on Christmas Day
I reckon the new year will bring a man I'll want to find under the mistletoe:
I just want you for my own
More than you could ever know
Make my wish come true
All I want for Christmas is you
You baby
Oh, I won't ask for much this Christmas
I won't even wish for snow
And I'm just gonna keep on waiting
Underneath the mistletoe
But for now, there's no one in particular I'm dreaming about being here with me tonight:
I won't make a list and send it
To the North Pole for Saint Nick
I won't even stay awake to
Hear those magic reindeer click
'Cause I just want you here tonight
Holding on to me so tight
What more can I do?
Baby all I want for Christmas is you,
You Baby
Oh, all the lights are shining
So brightly everywhere
And the sound of children's
Laughter fills the air
So it's off to sleep for me now, so I can get up early and enjoy Christmas morning with my kids...
I don't want a lot for Christmas
There is just one thing I need
I don't care about the presents
Underneath the Christmas tree
I just want you for my own
More than you could ever know
Make my wish come true
All I want for Christmas
Is you, you yeah
It may seem like a funny song for a single girl to choose to mark Christmas Eve, but truly, there's nothing in my whole life I ever wished harder for than children, and I couldn't be more grateful for the ones I get to call my own:
I don't want a lot for Christmas
There is just one thing I need
And I don't care about the presents
Underneath the Christmas tree
I don't need to hang my stocking
There upon the fireplace
Santa Claus won't make me happy
With a toy on Christmas Day
I reckon the new year will bring a man I'll want to find under the mistletoe:
I just want you for my own
More than you could ever know
Make my wish come true
All I want for Christmas is you
You baby
Oh, I won't ask for much this Christmas
I won't even wish for snow
And I'm just gonna keep on waiting
Underneath the mistletoe
But for now, there's no one in particular I'm dreaming about being here with me tonight:
I won't make a list and send it
 |
| Here we are! Christmas 2013 |
I won't even stay awake to
Hear those magic reindeer click
'Cause I just want you here tonight
Holding on to me so tight
What more can I do?
Baby all I want for Christmas is you,
You Baby
Oh, all the lights are shining
So brightly everywhere
And the sound of children's
Laughter fills the air
So it's off to sleep for me now, so I can get up early and enjoy Christmas morning with my kids...
Sunday, December 15, 2013
Border Line
 |
| The view from above the clouds between Wisco and Colorado |
My latest trip took me to Denver to visit a successful network of charter schools and a couple of friends who live in the area, followed by a weekend in Boulder with some other friends.
The last time I was in Colorado, I was with my last boyfriend. As I recall, we weren't at an easy place in our relationship, but we connected once we were in the mountains, likely because the man I was dating was much more able to be present in that topography.
The night before I left on this trip, I had a bad dream about him. He was wearing a mask, and I told him I could see that he was, and would he please take it off, and he snapped at me. I felt sad when I woke up, and I felt sad on the plane, too. This letting go process sure has a lot of layers.
 |
| Fire trail, Chautauqua, Boulder |
I decided to go for a trail run. As I headed up the path, I felt glad to be there under such a magnificent blue sky, and glad to be able to, at least in some form, play in the mountains, but I also missed my playmate.
I stopped along the way a few times to continue to release the sadness that I felt, which was pretty cathartic. I tried to tell the universe that I'd appreciate it if it would send me another playmate, but not surprisingly, there was no immediate response.
On the way home on the plane, I read an article in the New Yorker about a young British artist who is described as being like Tom Waits, and I was intrigued. His name is even Archy (though he spells it in kind of a funny way).
This song seemed to sing some of the pain I got in touch with on my journey to the mountains:
 |
| Skunk Canyon, Boulder |
My feelings just can’t discard
The way in which I fell into
Your heart was never what I once knew
Lately my skull has kept
Dividing lines deep set and paved
Two paths too wander through to depart
And sever desires to pursue
And the soul chokes
To cause the tide
To enforce divide
This whole devotion has morphed in time
I’ll escort her mind to solve my crimes
Reach slow motion to con the mind
See here I trace my steps
To where my senses left
And rain had turned my sense to mush
This slowly seeping straight through the crust
Now let these stains of gunk slip down
To where my head once sunk and drowned
Just await for a while to see
My body has merged to the deep krule sea
But my soul floats
Adrift thoughtless minds, distorted lines
The soul is broken down, borderlines
To cause the tide, to enforce divide
This whole devotion has morphed in time
I'll say. And the lines, they're drawn:
So scorn divine and mourn the pride
The cold has spoken, draw the line
Wednesday, December 11, 2013
Drunken Lullabies
For the last several weeks, whenever I'm driving in my car, I've been listening to Angela's Ashes on CD. It's a book I've had on my bookshelf for years, but just hadn't gotten around to reading it.
I'm glad I waited so that the author, Frank McCourt, could read it to me in his Irish accent -- I'm loving his graphic and at once depressing and uplifting recounting of his impoverished Irish childhood.
Talk about finding love in a hopeless place -- the book bears witness to the agony of having a drunk father:
Must it take a life for hateful eyes
To glisten once again
Five hundred years like Gelignite
Have blown us all to hell
What savior rests while on his cross we die
Forgotten freedom burns
Has the Shepard led his lambs astray
to the bigot and the gun
Must it take a life for hateful eyes
To glisten once again
Cause we find ourselves in the same old mess
Singin' drunken lullabies
...who does indeed sing drunken lullabies, but also captures the humanity of said father (and the rest of the family) in a really lovely way.
Every time I listen to it, I feel both grateful for what I have and what I'm able to offer my children, and for books' capability of transporting us to a different time and place and teaching us lessons through the power of storytelling...
I'm glad I waited so that the author, Frank McCourt, could read it to me in his Irish accent -- I'm loving his graphic and at once depressing and uplifting recounting of his impoverished Irish childhood.
Talk about finding love in a hopeless place -- the book bears witness to the agony of having a drunk father:
Must it take a life for hateful eyes
To glisten once again
Five hundred years like Gelignite
Have blown us all to hell
What savior rests while on his cross we die
Forgotten freedom burns
Has the Shepard led his lambs astray
to the bigot and the gun
Must it take a life for hateful eyes
To glisten once again
Cause we find ourselves in the same old mess
Singin' drunken lullabies
...who does indeed sing drunken lullabies, but also captures the humanity of said father (and the rest of the family) in a really lovely way.
Every time I listen to it, I feel both grateful for what I have and what I'm able to offer my children, and for books' capability of transporting us to a different time and place and teaching us lessons through the power of storytelling...
Sunday, December 8, 2013
We Found Love
 |
| My wingman for my return to wildness |
I went out there for a conference for work, and Friday night I had a working dinner to go to in the evening. But I had Saturday night free from 5pm on, so I made a plan to go to a yoga class at a studio I visited last time I was in town and then meet up with a friend for dinner.
I left the choice of restaurant in his hands and as it turned out, that meant we didn't have a plan. We wandered the streets, and wound up at a tapas place he'd heard about but never tried. It was packed and it seemed to take forever to get a seat and get our food, but I was happy to be in such a hip and happening place, so I didn't mind too much.
After dinner, my friend talked me into going dancing at a little dive bar in Columbia Heights. The music was great, with some songs from my dancing heyday (which is now nearly 20 years ago) and some from more current artists, like this number from Rihanna:
We found love in a hopeless place
We found love in a hopeless place
We found love in a hopeless place
We found love in a hopeless place
My friend and I took full advantage of the dance floor, and it felt good to let go in a way I haven't for a while:
Shine a light through an open door
Love and life I will divide
Turn away cause I need you more
Feel the heartbeat in my mind
It's the way I'm feeling I just can't deny
But I've gotta let it go
And yes, the night included a couple of connections with boys, which a single girl like me could enjoy without guilt:
We found love in a hopeless place
 |
| Nice garland! (acquired on dance floor) |
We found love in a hopeless place
We found love in a hopeless place
But love? Nope. Not likely on a DC dance floor, especially not the love I'm looking for in my life. So it was back to the hotel for me, resting up as much as I could for the conference the next day.
It was a long day of traveling home today with all the crazy weather, and I was reminded of all the reasons I usually choose kombucha over alcohol and prioritize sleep over dancing.
But for me, touching that space, unleashing that wild girl, is kind of like working a muscle you don't work very much really hard one day -- you always feel it the next day, and it hurts a little, but more than that, the twinge reminds you of your strength and vitality...
Thursday, December 5, 2013
Desire
This song has been playing in my head the past couple of days, ever since I started pondering what it means for me to move into a space where I can miss my ex without feeling bad about it. I asked myself what it is I miss, and part of it is him. The person with whom I fell in love and all the reasons I did. And that's ok. I still miss my first love, too. I still miss things about him now, 23 years after we dated. It doesn't get me down, though, it's even sort of semi-pleasant.
And now to what inspired the song:
Yeah
Lover, I'm on the street
Gonna go where the bright lights
And the big city meet
With a red guitar, on fire
Desire
Yes, the other thing I really miss about my last boyfriend and our relationship is being desired and desiring someone. Maybe because that really was my first relationship where desire got separated from the icky stuff it was attached to when I was a young girl, so I could finally just enjoy it:
She's a candle burning in my room
Yeah I'm like the needle, needle and spoon
Over the counter with a shotgun
Pretty soon everybody got one
I'm the fever when I'm beside her
Desire
Desire
Lady
And the fever, getting higher
Desire
Desire
Burning
Burning
And enjoy it I did. With any luck, it won't be too long before I'm in a relationship where I can enjoy it again. God knows after my last relationship, I'm not going to settle for anything less than burning desire in my next one...
And now to what inspired the song:
Yeah
Lover, I'm on the street
Gonna go where the bright lights
And the big city meet
With a red guitar, on fire
Desire
Yes, the other thing I really miss about my last boyfriend and our relationship is being desired and desiring someone. Maybe because that really was my first relationship where desire got separated from the icky stuff it was attached to when I was a young girl, so I could finally just enjoy it:
She's a candle burning in my room
Yeah I'm like the needle, needle and spoon
Over the counter with a shotgun
Pretty soon everybody got one
I'm the fever when I'm beside her
Desire
Desire
Lady
And the fever, getting higher
Desire
Desire
Burning
Burning
And enjoy it I did. With any luck, it won't be too long before I'm in a relationship where I can enjoy it again. God knows after my last relationship, I'm not going to settle for anything less than burning desire in my next one...
Wednesday, December 4, 2013
Don't Dream It's Over
I've been marveling lately at how much more freedom I feel in my life, and while doing so today, this song floated into my head:
There is freedom within, there is freedom without
Try to catch the deluge in a paper cup
There's a battle ahead, many battles are lost
But you'll never see the end of the road
While you're traveling with me
Hey now, hey now, don't dream it's over...
When the man I'd had my heart, mind, body and soul set on for three years moved away this summer, I couldn't, wouldn't dream it was over, and yet, another part of me knew it was. I hated succumbing to the grief. I did not want to let him go. But I also knew instinctually that I would grow if I did, that I'd become more fully the person I was always meant to be, if I could just stop putting up so much resistance.
And I'm proud to say I have. Put up less resistance, grown, and in the process gained more freedom than I've ever known before. I'm just not held back by the things that used to bog me down -- fear about money, the need to keep my family at arm's length, fear about being alone, fear that if I didn't look a certain way or weigh a certain amount, I wouldn't be loved -- that's all gone, or mostly gone, thanks to just letting go of what was in my way.
It's not all sunshine and roses. I also had to let go of something and someone I dearly loved. I've spent a lot of time alone. I've run a lot of miles. I've practiced a lot of yoga. I've been to a lot of therapy and bodywork appointments. But it's working:
Now I'm walking again to the beat of a drum
And I'm counting the steps to the door of your heart
Only the shadows ahead barely clearing the roof
Get to know the feeling of liberation and relief
I do indeed know the feeling of liberation and relief. And I know loss of a different magnitude than I've experienced in the past. I know this will make me a better mother, a better friend, a better yoga teacher -- maybe it'll even help me become the writer I've always known I am.
I don't know what's next for me. But I know it's gonna be good...
There is freedom within, there is freedom without
Try to catch the deluge in a paper cup
There's a battle ahead, many battles are lost
But you'll never see the end of the road
While you're traveling with me
Hey now, hey now, don't dream it's over...
When the man I'd had my heart, mind, body and soul set on for three years moved away this summer, I couldn't, wouldn't dream it was over, and yet, another part of me knew it was. I hated succumbing to the grief. I did not want to let him go. But I also knew instinctually that I would grow if I did, that I'd become more fully the person I was always meant to be, if I could just stop putting up so much resistance.
And I'm proud to say I have. Put up less resistance, grown, and in the process gained more freedom than I've ever known before. I'm just not held back by the things that used to bog me down -- fear about money, the need to keep my family at arm's length, fear about being alone, fear that if I didn't look a certain way or weigh a certain amount, I wouldn't be loved -- that's all gone, or mostly gone, thanks to just letting go of what was in my way.
It's not all sunshine and roses. I also had to let go of something and someone I dearly loved. I've spent a lot of time alone. I've run a lot of miles. I've practiced a lot of yoga. I've been to a lot of therapy and bodywork appointments. But it's working:
Now I'm walking again to the beat of a drum
And I'm counting the steps to the door of your heart
Only the shadows ahead barely clearing the roof
Get to know the feeling of liberation and relief
I do indeed know the feeling of liberation and relief. And I know loss of a different magnitude than I've experienced in the past. I know this will make me a better mother, a better friend, a better yoga teacher -- maybe it'll even help me become the writer I've always known I am.
I don't know what's next for me. But I know it's gonna be good...
Tuesday, December 3, 2013
Gives You Hell
This morning I got a new garage door opener installed since the old one recently broke. I was lucky enough to have it break before my home warranty was up, so I only had to pay $85 of the $385 bill, which was pretty sweet. Plus, it coincided with my garage getting cleaned (with the help of my kids) and organized (with the help of my Dad and brother-in-law), which means I now have a two-car garage that actually has space for two cars and two working garage door openers. Can you say making space for a partner? Oh yeah.
For some reason all day today, these words from this song have been going through my head:
And truth be told I miss you
And truth be told I'm lying
Only on my internal recording, the second line is: And truth be told I love you.
I think I know why. You see, I sat on my meditation cushion today and had a little discussion with the universe about where I am, where I've been and where I'm going. And as I worked my way through those places in terms of my relationships, I felt something shift.
Now the shift wasn't all the sadness dissipating, mind you, although that sure would be nice. (I know, it'll happen when it happens.) It was just a little more space for the possibility or maybe inevitability that my last boyfriend and I weren't meant to be one another's forever partners. Making space for this doesn't mean I don't miss him, it means I can miss him and feel ok about it. Not just tell myself I feel ok about it, but really feel ok about it.
I remember once while we were dating, he told me that he felt it wasn't fair -- that in love he has always had to give something up. He lamented that he couldn't have it all (he was referring to his mountains and the girl/woman of his dreams).
I was CRUSHED when he said that. Just crushed. How could I not be enough? How could we not be enough?
Tomorrow you'll be thinking to yourself
Yeah, where did it all go wrong?
But the list goes on and on
But maybe the answer is, I am enough, but I'm not right for him. And by the same token, maybe he is enough, but just not for me:
Truth be told I miss you
And truth be told I'm lying
Yep, truth be told I'd be lying if I didn't admit that he didn't have all the qualities I'm looking for in a husband. And truth be told, I did lie about that when we were together, to myself and to him.
But that's all behind me now, and as hard as it has been to deal with this loss, I am also grateful. Grateful that I am here, in this beautiful house, with these beautiful kids, making space, literally and figuratively, for the man that is most things I want and everything I need...
For some reason all day today, these words from this song have been going through my head:
And truth be told I miss you
And truth be told I'm lying
Only on my internal recording, the second line is: And truth be told I love you.
I think I know why. You see, I sat on my meditation cushion today and had a little discussion with the universe about where I am, where I've been and where I'm going. And as I worked my way through those places in terms of my relationships, I felt something shift.
Now the shift wasn't all the sadness dissipating, mind you, although that sure would be nice. (I know, it'll happen when it happens.) It was just a little more space for the possibility or maybe inevitability that my last boyfriend and I weren't meant to be one another's forever partners. Making space for this doesn't mean I don't miss him, it means I can miss him and feel ok about it. Not just tell myself I feel ok about it, but really feel ok about it.
I remember once while we were dating, he told me that he felt it wasn't fair -- that in love he has always had to give something up. He lamented that he couldn't have it all (he was referring to his mountains and the girl/woman of his dreams).
I was CRUSHED when he said that. Just crushed. How could I not be enough? How could we not be enough?
Tomorrow you'll be thinking to yourself
Yeah, where did it all go wrong?
But the list goes on and on
But maybe the answer is, I am enough, but I'm not right for him. And by the same token, maybe he is enough, but just not for me:
Truth be told I miss you
And truth be told I'm lying
Yep, truth be told I'd be lying if I didn't admit that he didn't have all the qualities I'm looking for in a husband. And truth be told, I did lie about that when we were together, to myself and to him.
But that's all behind me now, and as hard as it has been to deal with this loss, I am also grateful. Grateful that I am here, in this beautiful house, with these beautiful kids, making space, literally and figuratively, for the man that is most things I want and everything I need...
Sunday, December 1, 2013
No More Lonely Nights
We had such a nice time picking one out, cutting it down, and taking it home to decorate it. We all got along, and for the first time, it didn't feel like anything was missing. It felt like it was enough that the three of us were getting our tree together.
On the way home, there was some kind of old countdown on the radio, and this song from Paul McCartney struck me and stayed in my head for hours afterward:
No more lonely nights
No more lonely nights
You're my guiding light
Day or night I'm always there
May I never miss the thrill of being near you
And if it takes a couple of years
To turn your tears to laughter
I will do what I feel to be right
No more lonely nights
Never be another
No more lonely nights
You're my guiding light
Day or night I'm always there
And I won't go away until you tell me so
No I'll never go away
Yes I know what I feel to be right
No more lonely nights
Never be another
No more lonely nights
You're my guiding light
Day or night I'm always there
And I won't go away until you tell me soNo I'll never go away
I won't go away until you tell me so
No I'll never go away
No more lonely nights, no no...
Someday I know that my nights will again be filled in a different, delicious way, but for now, I am content to have the light that shines from within and the light of my children to light up my nights.
That, and for the next few weeks, our beautiful Christmas tree...
Saturday, November 30, 2013
The Show Must Go On
Yesterday evening, as my kids and I sat with our extended family around a belated Thanksgiving feast, I was keenly aware of another loss, the loss of a friend that I have dealt with on my own terms, and blogged about numerous times. But I've had a harder time being willing to be confronted with that loss in terms of what it is like for my cousin and his kids to lose their wife and mom, respectively. As we went around the table saying what we were thankful for, I could feel his pain as other family members talked about being happy everyone was together, that their families are healthy and happy, etc. I could almost feel him thinking that not everyone was together, that his family wasn't healthy or happy, and it just about broke my heart.
This Queen song seems appropriate to mark this day, because it isn't as if other people shouldn't be grateful that their families are healthy and happy because someone has died. The show must go on indeed, and I know that she would want it to, and without the heavy heart just as soon as we can muster up the strength to feel the pain and then release it:
Empty spaces - what are we living for
Abandoned places - I guess we know the score
On and on, does anybody know what we are looking for...
Another hero, another mindless crime
Behind the curtain, in the pantomime
Hold the line, does anybody want to take it anymore
The show must go on,
The show must go on
Inside my heart is breaking
My make-up may be flaking
But my smile still stays on.
Whatever happens, I'll leave it all to chance
Another heartache, another failed romance
On and on, does anybody know what we are living for?
I guess I'm learning, I must be warmer now
I'll soon be turning, round the corner now
Outside the dawn is breaking
But inside in the dark I'm aching to be free
The show must go on
The show must go on
Inside my heart is breaking
My make-up may be flaking
But my smile still stays on
My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies
Fairytales of yesterday will grow but never die
I can fly - my friends
The show must go on
The show must go on
I'll face it with a grin
I'm never giving in
On - with the show -
I'll top the bill, I'll overkill
I have to find the will to carry on
On with the -
On with the show -
The show must go on...
This Queen song seems appropriate to mark this day, because it isn't as if other people shouldn't be grateful that their families are healthy and happy because someone has died. The show must go on indeed, and I know that she would want it to, and without the heavy heart just as soon as we can muster up the strength to feel the pain and then release it:
Empty spaces - what are we living for
Abandoned places - I guess we know the score
On and on, does anybody know what we are looking for...
Another hero, another mindless crime
Behind the curtain, in the pantomime
Hold the line, does anybody want to take it anymore
The show must go on,
The show must go on
Inside my heart is breaking
My make-up may be flaking
But my smile still stays on.
Whatever happens, I'll leave it all to chance
Another heartache, another failed romance
On and on, does anybody know what we are living for?
I guess I'm learning, I must be warmer now
I'll soon be turning, round the corner now
Outside the dawn is breaking
But inside in the dark I'm aching to be free
The show must go on
The show must go on
Inside my heart is breaking
My make-up may be flaking
But my smile still stays on
My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies
Fairytales of yesterday will grow but never die
I can fly - my friends
The show must go on
The show must go on
I'll face it with a grin
I'm never giving in
On - with the show -
I'll top the bill, I'll overkill
I have to find the will to carry on
On with the -
On with the show -
The show must go on...
Friday, November 29, 2013
Tried To Be True
Early this morning, as my kids, my sister, and two of her kids slumbered, I got up and went to the 6:30am led Ashtanga practice. It's day 89 of my 90 day intensive, and I won't be able to go tomorrow since we'll be away at the farm overnight. During the 90 days, I took 50 classes and practiced yoga for nearly 70 hours, and I definitely feel a shift in my practice thanks to the increased level of discipline.
Accompanying me as I awoke this morning was a song, courtesy of the internal ipod, that seems to give voice to a part of me that appears to have some lingering questions about the relationship I recently gave up:
Did you try to be true?
What separates me from you?
What separates me from you now?
Did you borrow the soul,
The soul that you sell now?
What does your conscience tell you?
Where are the demons
Of your desire?
Why does my love destroy you?
Did you try to be true?
What separates me from you?
What separates me from you now?
I said I tried to be true.
What separates me from you.
I said I tried, tried to be true.
What separates me from you.
What separates me from you now?
Did you try to be true?
What separates me from you?
What separates me from you now?
So where is the fame,
Where is the fortune?
Where is the world that denies you?
Who is to blame,
When my heart finally forfeits
To a road that will only misguide you?
The Indigo Girls have long been my go to girl band for belting out a number with gusto, and this post Thanksgiving tune is no exception...
Accompanying me as I awoke this morning was a song, courtesy of the internal ipod, that seems to give voice to a part of me that appears to have some lingering questions about the relationship I recently gave up:
Did you try to be true?
What separates me from you?
What separates me from you now?
Did you borrow the soul,
The soul that you sell now?
What does your conscience tell you?
Where are the demons
Of your desire?
Why does my love destroy you?
Did you try to be true?
What separates me from you?
What separates me from you now?
I said I tried to be true.
What separates me from you.
I said I tried, tried to be true.
What separates me from you.
What separates me from you now?
Did you try to be true?
What separates me from you?
What separates me from you now?
So where is the fame,
Where is the fortune?
Where is the world that denies you?
Who is to blame,
When my heart finally forfeits
To a road that will only misguide you?
The Indigo Girls have long been my go to girl band for belting out a number with gusto, and this post Thanksgiving tune is no exception...
Thursday, November 28, 2013
Being Alive
This morning I got up and went to yoga, starting my day with one of the many things for which I am grateful. It felt good, and even the chilly bikeride on the way home was a welcome way to ring in Thanksgiving morning. When I got home, I climbed into the bathtub and watched a little Glee while I soaked. I think this was a wise move, because it enabled me to have a good cry before my kids came back home and the two-day family extravaganza that starts tonight begins.
The song wasn't one with which I was familiar, but it's a good one. Ultimately, I think it's a love song, but it's about what's difficult about love as much as it's about what's beautiful, and it's all being alive:
Someone to hold you too close
Someone to hurt you too deep
Someone to sit in your chair
And ruin your sleep
And make you aware of being alive
Someone to need you too much
Someone to know you too well
Someone to pull you up short
And put you through hell
And give you support for being
alive - being alive
Make me alive, make me confused
Mock me with praise, let me be used
Vary my days, but alone is alone,
not alive.
Somebody hold me too close
Somebody force me to care
Somebody make me come through
I'll alway's be there
As frightened as you of being alive
Being alive, being alive
Someone you have to let in
Someone whose feelings you spare
Someone who, like it or not
Will want you to share a little, a lot
of being alive
Make me alive, make me confused
Mock me with praise, let me be used
Vary my days, but alone is alone,
not alive
Somebody crowd me with love
Somebody force me to care
Somebody let me come through
I'll always be there
As frightened as you to help us survive
Being alive, being alive,
Being alive, being alive.
I'm super grateful to be alive, I'm super grateful to be a Mom, and I'm looking forward to future holidays (and everydays) with my man at my side to share being alive...
The song wasn't one with which I was familiar, but it's a good one. Ultimately, I think it's a love song, but it's about what's difficult about love as much as it's about what's beautiful, and it's all being alive:
Someone to hold you too close
Someone to hurt you too deep
Someone to sit in your chair
And ruin your sleep
And make you aware of being alive
Someone to need you too much
Someone to know you too well
Someone to pull you up short
And put you through hell
And give you support for being
alive - being alive
Make me alive, make me confused
Mock me with praise, let me be used
Vary my days, but alone is alone,
not alive.
Somebody hold me too close
Somebody force me to care
Somebody make me come through
I'll alway's be there
As frightened as you of being alive
Being alive, being alive
Someone you have to let in
Someone whose feelings you spare
Someone who, like it or not
Will want you to share a little, a lot
of being alive
Make me alive, make me confused
Mock me with praise, let me be used
Vary my days, but alone is alone,
not alive
Somebody crowd me with love
Somebody force me to care
Somebody let me come through
I'll always be there
As frightened as you to help us survive
Being alive, being alive,
Being alive, being alive.
I'm super grateful to be alive, I'm super grateful to be a Mom, and I'm looking forward to future holidays (and everydays) with my man at my side to share being alive...
Wednesday, November 27, 2013
Brave
One of the guided meditations I sometimes listen to, on forgiveness, says this in the introduction:
"If you want to see the brave, look to those who can forgive."
I've used this mantra to guide me through the process I've been through over the past several years -- taking an honest look at where I came from -- and feeling the feelings that I didn't feel while I was in the process of growing up. It hasn't been easy, but it does feel like I've entered a new stage.
The stages have looked something like this:
1) Denial -- during childhood up until my early 30s (It ain't just a river in Egypt).
2) Anger/Fear/Sadness -- this lasted until my late 30s, and was characterized by a desire to stay away from my family of origin.
3) Acceptance -- this is the phase I've moved into over the last few years, and it has involved moving back toward my family of origin -- and more willingness to spend time with them, mostly for the sake of my kids, even if it isn't easy.
To embark on this path, there's no doubt I've needed to be brave, and when I heard this song today, it felt not a little bit autobiographical:
You can be amazing
You can turn a phrase into a weapon or a drug
You can be the outcast
Or be the backlash of somebody’s lack of love
Or you can start speaking up
Nothing’s gonna hurt you the way that words do
When they settle ‘neath your skin
Kept on the inside and no sunlight
Sometimes a shadow wins
But I wonder what would happen if you
Say what you wanna say
And let the words fall out
Honestly I wanna see you be brave
I just wanna see you
I just wanna see you
I just wanna see you
I wanna see you be brave
Everybody’s been there,
Everybody’s been stared down by the enemy
Fallen for the fear
And done some disappearing,
Bow down to the mighty
Don’t run, stop holding your tongue
Maybe there’s a way out of the cage where you live
Maybe one of these days you can let the light in
Show me how big your brave is
Say what you wanna say
And let the words fall out
Honestly I wanna see you be brave
And since your history of silence
Won’t do you any good,
Did you think it would?
Let your words be anything but empty
Why don’t you tell them the truth?
Say what you wanna say
And let the words fall out
Honestly I wanna see you be brave
With what you want to say
And let the words fall out
Honestly I wanna see you be brave
I wanna see you be brave this Thanksgiving, SJ, when you're gathered with your family of origin. You're not going to have a man by your side. You're gonna have to go it alone. Good thing you're so brave...
"If you want to see the brave, look to those who can forgive."
I've used this mantra to guide me through the process I've been through over the past several years -- taking an honest look at where I came from -- and feeling the feelings that I didn't feel while I was in the process of growing up. It hasn't been easy, but it does feel like I've entered a new stage.
The stages have looked something like this:
1) Denial -- during childhood up until my early 30s (It ain't just a river in Egypt).
2) Anger/Fear/Sadness -- this lasted until my late 30s, and was characterized by a desire to stay away from my family of origin.
3) Acceptance -- this is the phase I've moved into over the last few years, and it has involved moving back toward my family of origin -- and more willingness to spend time with them, mostly for the sake of my kids, even if it isn't easy.
To embark on this path, there's no doubt I've needed to be brave, and when I heard this song today, it felt not a little bit autobiographical:
You can be amazing
You can turn a phrase into a weapon or a drug
You can be the outcast
Or be the backlash of somebody’s lack of love
Or you can start speaking up
Nothing’s gonna hurt you the way that words do
When they settle ‘neath your skin
Kept on the inside and no sunlight
Sometimes a shadow wins
But I wonder what would happen if you
Say what you wanna say
And let the words fall out
Honestly I wanna see you be brave
I just wanna see you
I just wanna see you
I just wanna see you
I wanna see you be brave
Everybody’s been there,
Everybody’s been stared down by the enemy
Fallen for the fear
And done some disappearing,
Bow down to the mighty
Don’t run, stop holding your tongue
Maybe there’s a way out of the cage where you live
Maybe one of these days you can let the light in
Show me how big your brave is
Say what you wanna say
And let the words fall out
Honestly I wanna see you be brave
And since your history of silence
Won’t do you any good,
Did you think it would?
Let your words be anything but empty
Why don’t you tell them the truth?
Say what you wanna say
And let the words fall out
Honestly I wanna see you be brave
With what you want to say
And let the words fall out
Honestly I wanna see you be brave
I wanna see you be brave this Thanksgiving, SJ, when you're gathered with your family of origin. You're not going to have a man by your side. You're gonna have to go it alone. Good thing you're so brave...
Tuesday, November 26, 2013
Goodbye My Lover
I recognize that I'm walking a tricky line here -- maintaining a forward orientation while also allowing myself to feel my feelings. I recently identified what I now call my voiceover, which is where I tell myself something that I want to be true because it's easier than being with what is true. Turns out I've used the voiceover in this way for, well, that's just say, years. For many of those years, I needed it to survive, but now it's time to let it go.
Part of the reason for the perceived need for the voiceover was another assumption I was operating under, which goes something like this: Feeling x means I'm y. In the example I'm discussing in this post, that might be feeling sad about losing a love means I'm not over him.
Here's the new twist I'm adding to the equation: maybe it does and maybe it doesn't. Maybe it just means that today, or in the moment when I heard this song or had that memory, I felt sad. It doesn't have to mean anything else.
It might seem like a small difference, but I think it will be huge for me to let myself feel what I am feeling without getting all caught up in the storyline, without taking on the role of victim, without feeling sorry for myself or catastrophizing about the past or the future. Feeling sad can be just that: a feeling of sadness. Nothing more, nothing less. Not bad or good. Just sadness.
I think this song made me sad because it speaks the plain, honest truth about something really difficult: losing a love. Something that I've been through in a bigger way in the past six months than in the previous 42 years, but something that just about everybody feels at some point in their life (we just don't all write beautiful songs about it like this one):
Did I disappoint you or let you down?
Should I be feeling guilty or let the judges frown?
'Cause I saw the end before we'd begun,
Yes I saw you were blinded and I knew I had won.
So I took what's mine by eternal right.
Took your soul out into the night.
It may be over but it won't stop there,
I am here for you if you'd only care.
You touched my heart you touched my soul.
You changed my life and all my goals.
And love is blind and that I knew when,
My heart was blinded by you.
I've kissed your lips and held your hand.
Shared your dreams and shared your bed.
I know you well, I know your smell.
I've been addicted to you.
Goodbye my lover.
Goodbye my friend.
You have been the one.
You have been the one for me.
(Those last two lines are probably the saddest for me.)
I am a dreamer and when I wake,
You can't break my spirit - it's my dreams you take.
And as you move on, remember me,
Remember us and all we used to be
I've seen you cry, I've seen you smile.
I've watched you sleeping for a while.
I'd be the father of your child.
I'd spend a lifetime with you.
I know your fears and you know mine.
We've had our doubts but now we're fine,
And I love you, I swear that's true.
I cannot live without you.
Goodbye my lover.
Goodbye my friend.
You have been the one.
You have been the one for me.
And I still hold your hand in mine.
In mine when I'm asleep.
And I will bare my soul in time,
When I'm kneeling at your feet.
Goodbye my lover.
Goodbye my friend.
You have been the one.
You have been the one for me.
I'm so hollow, baby, I'm so hollow.
I'm so, I'm so, I'm so hollow.
I'm so hollow, baby, I'm so hollow.
I'm so, I'm so, I'm so hollow.
Maybe you are hollow, James, I don't know. As for me, sometimes I feel hollow, but I know for certain that I'm not. I'm just a girl feeling sad when I hear these words:
Goodbye my lover.
Goodbye my friend.
You have been the one.
You have been the one for me...
Part of the reason for the perceived need for the voiceover was another assumption I was operating under, which goes something like this: Feeling x means I'm y. In the example I'm discussing in this post, that might be feeling sad about losing a love means I'm not over him.
Here's the new twist I'm adding to the equation: maybe it does and maybe it doesn't. Maybe it just means that today, or in the moment when I heard this song or had that memory, I felt sad. It doesn't have to mean anything else.
It might seem like a small difference, but I think it will be huge for me to let myself feel what I am feeling without getting all caught up in the storyline, without taking on the role of victim, without feeling sorry for myself or catastrophizing about the past or the future. Feeling sad can be just that: a feeling of sadness. Nothing more, nothing less. Not bad or good. Just sadness.
I think this song made me sad because it speaks the plain, honest truth about something really difficult: losing a love. Something that I've been through in a bigger way in the past six months than in the previous 42 years, but something that just about everybody feels at some point in their life (we just don't all write beautiful songs about it like this one):
Did I disappoint you or let you down?
Should I be feeling guilty or let the judges frown?
'Cause I saw the end before we'd begun,
Yes I saw you were blinded and I knew I had won.
So I took what's mine by eternal right.
Took your soul out into the night.
It may be over but it won't stop there,
I am here for you if you'd only care.
You touched my heart you touched my soul.
You changed my life and all my goals.
And love is blind and that I knew when,
My heart was blinded by you.
I've kissed your lips and held your hand.
Shared your dreams and shared your bed.
I know you well, I know your smell.
I've been addicted to you.
Goodbye my lover.
Goodbye my friend.
You have been the one.
You have been the one for me.
(Those last two lines are probably the saddest for me.)
I am a dreamer and when I wake,
You can't break my spirit - it's my dreams you take.
And as you move on, remember me,
Remember us and all we used to be
I've seen you cry, I've seen you smile.
I've watched you sleeping for a while.
I'd be the father of your child.
I'd spend a lifetime with you.
I know your fears and you know mine.
We've had our doubts but now we're fine,
And I love you, I swear that's true.
I cannot live without you.
Goodbye my lover.
Goodbye my friend.
You have been the one.
You have been the one for me.
And I still hold your hand in mine.
In mine when I'm asleep.
And I will bare my soul in time,
When I'm kneeling at your feet.
Goodbye my lover.
Goodbye my friend.
You have been the one.
You have been the one for me.
I'm so hollow, baby, I'm so hollow.
I'm so, I'm so, I'm so hollow.
I'm so hollow, baby, I'm so hollow.
I'm so, I'm so, I'm so hollow.
Maybe you are hollow, James, I don't know. As for me, sometimes I feel hollow, but I know for certain that I'm not. I'm just a girl feeling sad when I hear these words:
Goodbye my lover.
Goodbye my friend.
You have been the one.
You have been the one for me...
Monday, November 25, 2013
The Lazy Song
 |
| Snow on the juniper bushes this morning |
Somewhat inexplicably, after nearly 12 hours of sleep (interrupted by getting up a couple of times to try to get the heat to go back on so I didn't freeze), I woke up this morning with this song playing in my head:
Today I don't feel like doing anything
I just wanna lay in my bed
Don't feel like picking up my phone
So leave a message at the tone
'Cause today I swear I'm not doing anything
The rest of the lyrics of this silly song are just too silly to post here (hand in his pants? snuggie?), but I get excited whenever my internal ipod plays a song, even when it's not one of my faves, so I thought I'd use it to mark this at-home but not-so-lazy day...
Sunday, November 24, 2013
Roots Before Branches
This morning I had a super interesting experience in my yoga class. I went to an Ashtanga led practice, which means I did more poses than I do in my own practice, including a series of four poses called Marichyasana A-D, all of which require a bind.
Now binding, for those who don't know, requires one to open the shoulders, and typically, this is difficult if not impossible for me to do. This morning, I was easily able to bind in each version, which surprised the hell out of me. I would have thought that after two rather stressful days with my parents, I would've closed my shoulders tighter. Instead, it seems that just allowing myself to be in that space with them, as painful as it was at some points, opened me.
I knew that was true of remaining in a yoga pose, but I didn't realize it was true about spending time with family with an open heart. Super cool. As hard as it is for many of us to make peace with the people we came from, it's such an important part of who we are -- mind, body and soul. We can try to deny that -- I should know because try I have -- but the body always remembers.
This afternoon I was watching the last episode of season 3 of Glee. It almost killed me to watch Finn and Rachel say goodbye to each other -- reminding me a bit as it did of a goodbye in my not-too-distant past -- but the blow was cushioned by the two of them singing (link to Glee) this lovely song (link to Room For Two):
I gotta have
Roots before branches
To know who I am
Before I know
Who I wanna be
And faith
To take chances
To live like I see
A place in this world
For me
Sometimes
I don't wanna feel
And forget the pain
Is real
Put my head
In the clouds
Oh, start to run
And then I fall
Thinkin'
I can't get it all
Without my feet
On the ground
There's always a seed
Before there's a rose
The more that it rains
The more I will grow
Whatever comes
I know how to take it
Learn to be strong
I won't have to fake it
Oh, you're understandin'
The wind can come
And do it's best
Blow me North and South
East and West
But I'll still
Be standing
I'll be standing
I gotta have
Roots before branches
To know who I am
Before I know
Who I wanna be
And faith
To take chances
To live like I see
A place in this world
Speaking of taking chances and living like I see a place in this world, the name of the original artist of this song compels me to tell a story of a time in my life that was characterized by doing just that. The autumn after I graduated from college, my friend and I decided to buy a 6-month, 4-stop airline ticket. We stopped first in Fiji, then New Zealand, then Australia, then Hawaii, but we spent the bulk of the time in Australia.
While in Oz, as I've written about before, we were pretty wild. Live-in nannies during the week, we'd literally spend our weekends in the bars (there's no such thing as bar time over there). On one specific occasion, my friend was working her magic to get us some free drinks by flirting with a guy at the bar. Eventually we all ended up going back to someone's flat to crash, and the drinks daddy was hoping to get lucky. My friend wasn't interested, though, so she gave him a classic excuse: she said it was her lady time, and something else was occupying the space he was hoping to enter.
"There's room for two!" he said -- and ever since, that phrase has always made us chuckle...
Now binding, for those who don't know, requires one to open the shoulders, and typically, this is difficult if not impossible for me to do. This morning, I was easily able to bind in each version, which surprised the hell out of me. I would have thought that after two rather stressful days with my parents, I would've closed my shoulders tighter. Instead, it seems that just allowing myself to be in that space with them, as painful as it was at some points, opened me.
I knew that was true of remaining in a yoga pose, but I didn't realize it was true about spending time with family with an open heart. Super cool. As hard as it is for many of us to make peace with the people we came from, it's such an important part of who we are -- mind, body and soul. We can try to deny that -- I should know because try I have -- but the body always remembers.
This afternoon I was watching the last episode of season 3 of Glee. It almost killed me to watch Finn and Rachel say goodbye to each other -- reminding me a bit as it did of a goodbye in my not-too-distant past -- but the blow was cushioned by the two of them singing (link to Glee) this lovely song (link to Room For Two):
I gotta have
Roots before branches
To know who I am
Before I know
Who I wanna be
And faith
To take chances
To live like I see
A place in this world
For me
Sometimes
I don't wanna feel
And forget the pain
Is real
Put my head
In the clouds
Oh, start to run
And then I fall
Thinkin'
I can't get it all
Without my feet
On the ground
There's always a seed
Before there's a rose
The more that it rains
The more I will grow
Whatever comes
I know how to take it
Learn to be strong
I won't have to fake it
Oh, you're understandin'
The wind can come
And do it's best
Blow me North and South
East and West
But I'll still
Be standing
I'll be standing
I gotta have
Roots before branches
To know who I am
Before I know
Who I wanna be
And faith
To take chances
To live like I see
A place in this world
Speaking of taking chances and living like I see a place in this world, the name of the original artist of this song compels me to tell a story of a time in my life that was characterized by doing just that. The autumn after I graduated from college, my friend and I decided to buy a 6-month, 4-stop airline ticket. We stopped first in Fiji, then New Zealand, then Australia, then Hawaii, but we spent the bulk of the time in Australia.
While in Oz, as I've written about before, we were pretty wild. Live-in nannies during the week, we'd literally spend our weekends in the bars (there's no such thing as bar time over there). On one specific occasion, my friend was working her magic to get us some free drinks by flirting with a guy at the bar. Eventually we all ended up going back to someone's flat to crash, and the drinks daddy was hoping to get lucky. My friend wasn't interested, though, so she gave him a classic excuse: she said it was her lady time, and something else was occupying the space he was hoping to enter.
"There's room for two!" he said -- and ever since, that phrase has always made us chuckle...
Saturday, November 23, 2013
Take My Breath Away
And she passed with flying colors, earning her black belt and accomplishing her goal. However, during the sparring event, the poor thing got the wind knocked out of her -- cue Berlin on the soundtrack of Top Gun for today's song:
Take my breath away
Take my breath away
I felt bad for her, but of course, I couldn't do anything, she couldn't cry -- we just had to tell ourselves it was part of the process, the price of admission, so to speak.
I'm super proud of my brave girl -- for enduring that -- for learning all those difficult moves -- for her commitment and dedication to her practice... It kinda takes my breath away, (though not in the same way that Kelly McGillis took Tom Cruise's breath away):
I felt bad for her, but of course, I couldn't do anything, she couldn't cry -- we just had to tell ourselves it was part of the process, the price of admission, so to speak.
I'm super proud of my brave girl -- for enduring that -- for learning all those difficult moves -- for her commitment and dedication to her practice... It kinda takes my breath away, (though not in the same way that Kelly McGillis took Tom Cruise's breath away):
Through the hourglass I saw you, in time you slipped away
When the mirror crashed, I called you and turned to hear you say
If only for today, I am unafraid
Take my breath away
Take my breath away
Thursday, November 21, 2013
In My Life
This afternoon, in anticipation of my parents' arrival, I went to see my acupuncturist. We always talk before I hit the table, and this time I talked about my parents. While I was on the table, she let me know I had been shouting when I was talking about them. "Anger is just something in the way of what's coming next," she said. I'm still chewing on that one, but I felt a whole lot better after my treatment.
In addition to dealing with anger, we dealt with a little bit of grief, too, and we talked about having having a forward orientation from here on out. I don't have to know what's next, she said, but that's the direction I'm looking: Forward. I like it.
Tonight my son had his honor band concert, in which he played percussion. We met my parents there, and it was an interesting experience to watch the concert with my Dad. During one of the ensembles, he leaned over to me and said: "There you are," indicating the tallest girl in the group, and a redhead to boot: "red hair and taller than everyone else." I'd known that I was the tallest kid in my school in 6th grade, of course, but it was a different experience altogether to see a young girl that resembled me through my Dad's eyes.
Anyway, the concert was a smashing success, and on the way home, we heard this song:
There are places I remember
All my life, though some have changed
Some forever not for better
Some have gone and some remain
All these places have their moments
With lovers and friends I still can recall
Some are dead and some are living
In my life I've loved them all
Word moptops, I'm feeling every word of the first verse. But in this second verse, I'm taking the liberty of using my forward orientation because I believe I've yet to meet my incomparable lover:
But of all these friends and lovers
There is no one compares with you
And these memories lose their meaning
When I think of love as something new
Though I know I'll never lose affection
For people and things that went before
I know I'll often stop and think about them
In my life I love you more
I'm gonna love him more, yes I am, and in the meantime, I'm busting with pride about the little man in my life (who's not so little anymore) and his fabulous sense of musical timing...
In addition to dealing with anger, we dealt with a little bit of grief, too, and we talked about having having a forward orientation from here on out. I don't have to know what's next, she said, but that's the direction I'm looking: Forward. I like it.
Tonight my son had his honor band concert, in which he played percussion. We met my parents there, and it was an interesting experience to watch the concert with my Dad. During one of the ensembles, he leaned over to me and said: "There you are," indicating the tallest girl in the group, and a redhead to boot: "red hair and taller than everyone else." I'd known that I was the tallest kid in my school in 6th grade, of course, but it was a different experience altogether to see a young girl that resembled me through my Dad's eyes.
Anyway, the concert was a smashing success, and on the way home, we heard this song:
There are places I remember
All my life, though some have changed
Some forever not for better
Some have gone and some remain
All these places have their moments
With lovers and friends I still can recall
Some are dead and some are living
In my life I've loved them all
Word moptops, I'm feeling every word of the first verse. But in this second verse, I'm taking the liberty of using my forward orientation because I believe I've yet to meet my incomparable lover:
But of all these friends and lovers
There is no one compares with you
And these memories lose their meaning
When I think of love as something new
Though I know I'll never lose affection
For people and things that went before
I know I'll often stop and think about them
In my life I love you more
I'm gonna love him more, yes I am, and in the meantime, I'm busting with pride about the little man in my life (who's not so little anymore) and his fabulous sense of musical timing...
Wednesday, November 20, 2013
Searchin' My Soul
I spent the majority of my drive to Milwaukee this morning on a conference call, but I made sure to hang up a few minutes from my destination so I could have some me time. I pressed scan on the radio, looking for a good singalong number, and soon I was belting out I Want to Know What Love Is with my friends from Foreigner.
But I've already used that song to mark a day on this blog, a day where I was recognizing how much I'd learned about love from my last boyfriend. And I learned a lot about it from that relationship, there's no question I did, but as I was singing the words this morning, I realized there is a whole lot more I want to know about love.
I've always been a little jealous of the kind of couples where they feel a genuine love for one another, have shared values and a shared vision of what living a good life looks like, and are passionate and committed to living that life together. I don't know about that kind of love, but I'd like to learn, and I believe that's what's coming for me next.
So I decided to make Foreigner's classic my new theme song, Ally McBeal style. For those of you who aren't or weren't fans, she'd choose a song to really shout to the world what she was all about. Although her theme song on the show changed, this was always the show's theme, so I'm using this one to mark this day.
As luck would have it, the lyrics just happen to be apropos:
I've been down this road walkin' the line
That's painted by pride
And I have made mistakes in my life
That I just can't hide
Oh I believe I am ready for what love has to bring
Got myself together, now I'm ready to sing
I've been searchin' my soul tonight
I know there's so much more to life
Now I know I can shine a light
To find my way back home
One by one, the chains around me unwind
Every day now I feel that I can leave those years behind
Oh I've been thinking of you for a long time
There's a side of my life where I've been blind and so...
I've been searchin' my soul tonight
I know there's so much more to life
Now I know I can shine a light
Everything gonna be alright
I've been searchin' my soul tonight
Don't wanna be alone in life
Now I know I can shine a light
To find my way back home
Baby I been holding back now my whole life
I've decided to move on now
Gonna leave all my worries behind
Oh I believe I am ready for what love has to give
Got myself together now I'm ready to live...
Me too, Ally, me too!
But I've already used that song to mark a day on this blog, a day where I was recognizing how much I'd learned about love from my last boyfriend. And I learned a lot about it from that relationship, there's no question I did, but as I was singing the words this morning, I realized there is a whole lot more I want to know about love.
I've always been a little jealous of the kind of couples where they feel a genuine love for one another, have shared values and a shared vision of what living a good life looks like, and are passionate and committed to living that life together. I don't know about that kind of love, but I'd like to learn, and I believe that's what's coming for me next.
So I decided to make Foreigner's classic my new theme song, Ally McBeal style. For those of you who aren't or weren't fans, she'd choose a song to really shout to the world what she was all about. Although her theme song on the show changed, this was always the show's theme, so I'm using this one to mark this day.
As luck would have it, the lyrics just happen to be apropos:
I've been down this road walkin' the line
That's painted by pride
And I have made mistakes in my life
That I just can't hide
Oh I believe I am ready for what love has to bring
Got myself together, now I'm ready to sing
I've been searchin' my soul tonight
I know there's so much more to life
Now I know I can shine a light
To find my way back home
One by one, the chains around me unwind
Every day now I feel that I can leave those years behind
Oh I've been thinking of you for a long time
There's a side of my life where I've been blind and so...
I've been searchin' my soul tonight
I know there's so much more to life
Now I know I can shine a light
Everything gonna be alright
I've been searchin' my soul tonight
Don't wanna be alone in life
Now I know I can shine a light
To find my way back home
Baby I been holding back now my whole life
I've decided to move on now
Gonna leave all my worries behind
Oh I believe I am ready for what love has to give
Got myself together now I'm ready to live...
Me too, Ally, me too!
Tuesday, November 19, 2013
Ordinary World
Last night I made dinner for my realtor and my mortgage person -- something I promised to do at the closing on this house, which was December 14, 2012. I thought it was about time to make good on that promise (nearly a year later!), and it was fun to show them what I've done with the house.
Moving here was a decision I made when I got to the point when I was more willing to face the truth about the person who was my boyfriend than I was willing to keep pretending everything was going to be alright despite all the evidence to the contrary. After he'd lived here a year and a half, I thought he might be ready to buy a house with me. He wasn't. I understood the reasons, bought the house by myself and offered to have him move in with us anyway, as my partner. I made it clear that I meant as partners, no more playing house.
Shortly after that, he made the decision to leave Madison altogether in the summer. As most of y'all know, it was a tough time leading up to his departure and it was a tough time after he left, but when I heard this song on the radio at the gym today...
Came in from a rainy Thursday
On the avenue
Thought I heard you talking softly
I turned on the lights, the TV
And the radio
Still I can't escape the ghost of you
What has happened to it all?
Crazy, some are saying
Where is the life that I recognize?
Gone away
...I made a decision:
But I won't cry for yesterday
There's an ordinary world
Somehow I have to find
And as I try to make my way
To the ordinary world
I will learn to survive
Now I'm not saying I won't still cry when I feel like crying, but I am saying that as much as I can, I'm going to try to move on. To stop thinking about it and writing about it as much as I am. To turn my attention from the past to the present and the future. There's a saying in Alanon: "Fake it til you make it." I didn't care for it at first, because it sounded anathema to my usual modus operandi, which is all about truth.
If this is what I feel:
Passion or coincidence
Once prompted you to say
"Pride will tear us both apart"
Well now pride's gone out the window
Cross the rooftops
Run away
Left me in the vacuum of my heart
What is happening to me?
Crazy, some'd say
Where is my friend when I need you most?
Gone away
...then this is what I should think/blog about. But the point isn't to deny the truth of your feelings, the point is to label them just that: feelings. Feelings aren't facts. They need to be felt, yes, but then, if we don't attach a story to them, they leave us again:
But I won't cry for yesterday
There's an ordinary world
Somehow I have to find
And as I try to make my way
To the ordinary world
I will learn to survive
So that's what I'm going to do. I'm going to try to drop the story, where/when possible, try to get a little more perspective:
Papers in the roadside
Tell of suffering and greed
Here today, forgot tomorrow
Ooh, here besides the news
Of holy war and holy need
Ours is just a little sorrowed talk
..and see if it's possible to start moving on, for real:
And I don't cry for yesterday
There's an ordinary world
Somehow I have to find
And as I try to make my way
To the ordinary world
I will learn to survive
Every one
Is my world, I will learn to survive
Any one
Is my world, I will learn to survive
Any one
Is my world
Every one
Is my world...
Moving here was a decision I made when I got to the point when I was more willing to face the truth about the person who was my boyfriend than I was willing to keep pretending everything was going to be alright despite all the evidence to the contrary. After he'd lived here a year and a half, I thought he might be ready to buy a house with me. He wasn't. I understood the reasons, bought the house by myself and offered to have him move in with us anyway, as my partner. I made it clear that I meant as partners, no more playing house.
Shortly after that, he made the decision to leave Madison altogether in the summer. As most of y'all know, it was a tough time leading up to his departure and it was a tough time after he left, but when I heard this song on the radio at the gym today...
Came in from a rainy Thursday
On the avenue
Thought I heard you talking softly
I turned on the lights, the TV
And the radio
Still I can't escape the ghost of you
What has happened to it all?
Crazy, some are saying
Where is the life that I recognize?
Gone away
...I made a decision:
But I won't cry for yesterday
There's an ordinary world
Somehow I have to find
And as I try to make my way
To the ordinary world
I will learn to survive
Now I'm not saying I won't still cry when I feel like crying, but I am saying that as much as I can, I'm going to try to move on. To stop thinking about it and writing about it as much as I am. To turn my attention from the past to the present and the future. There's a saying in Alanon: "Fake it til you make it." I didn't care for it at first, because it sounded anathema to my usual modus operandi, which is all about truth.
If this is what I feel:
Passion or coincidence
Once prompted you to say
"Pride will tear us both apart"
Well now pride's gone out the window
Cross the rooftops
Run away
Left me in the vacuum of my heart
What is happening to me?
Crazy, some'd say
Where is my friend when I need you most?
Gone away
...then this is what I should think/blog about. But the point isn't to deny the truth of your feelings, the point is to label them just that: feelings. Feelings aren't facts. They need to be felt, yes, but then, if we don't attach a story to them, they leave us again:
But I won't cry for yesterday
There's an ordinary world
Somehow I have to find
And as I try to make my way
To the ordinary world
I will learn to survive
So that's what I'm going to do. I'm going to try to drop the story, where/when possible, try to get a little more perspective:
Papers in the roadside
Tell of suffering and greed
Here today, forgot tomorrow
Ooh, here besides the news
Of holy war and holy need
Ours is just a little sorrowed talk
..and see if it's possible to start moving on, for real:
And I don't cry for yesterday
There's an ordinary world
Somehow I have to find
And as I try to make my way
To the ordinary world
I will learn to survive
Every one
Is my world, I will learn to survive
Any one
Is my world, I will learn to survive
Any one
Is my world
Every one
Is my world...
Monday, November 18, 2013
Hero
I could feel all day that there was something uncomfortable brewing under the surface today, but it took hearing this cheesy song to finally get the tears flowing:
There's a hero
If you look inside your heart
You don't have to be afraid
Of what you are
There's an answer
If you reach into your soul
And the sorrow that you know
Will melt away
I don't know, Mariah. I've been reaching into my soul for months, and the sorrow may be lessening, but I'm afraid I can't say it has melted away:
And then a hero comes along
With the strength to carry on
And you cast your fears aside
And you know you can survive
So when you feel like hope is gone
Look inside you and be strong
And you'll finally see the truth
That a hero lies in you
I felt this today. Strength. Through all the discomfort, there was an undercurrent of strength. Of I-can-do-this-ness. On my bike this morning in the bitter wind, in my frustrating work meeting, in my TRX class, in yoga this evening. I could feel myself in there, fighting, for me:
It's a long road
When you face the world alone
No one reaches out a hand
For you to hold
You can find love
If you search within yourself
And the emptiness you felt
Will disappear
But I guess I gotta keep searching within myself, because I still feel emptiness. I still feel the "how could he have left me?" and "why did I invest so much in something so precarious?" But then how was I to know that love could be precarious? I'm here to say that it can be when you're with someone who only partly surrenders to it, and take it from me, if there's a part of you that knows that's what's happening in your relationship, do yourself a favor and get out now:
Lord knows
Dreams are hard to follow
But don't let anyone
Tear them away
Hold on
There will be tomorrow
In time
You'll find the way
I know that in time I'll find the way, but in the meantime, I'm heading into the holidays more alone than I've been, with the exception of my kids, in my adult life...
There's a hero
If you look inside your heart
You don't have to be afraid
Of what you are
There's an answer
If you reach into your soul
And the sorrow that you know
Will melt away
I don't know, Mariah. I've been reaching into my soul for months, and the sorrow may be lessening, but I'm afraid I can't say it has melted away:
And then a hero comes along
With the strength to carry on
And you cast your fears aside
And you know you can survive
So when you feel like hope is gone
Look inside you and be strong
And you'll finally see the truth
That a hero lies in you
I felt this today. Strength. Through all the discomfort, there was an undercurrent of strength. Of I-can-do-this-ness. On my bike this morning in the bitter wind, in my frustrating work meeting, in my TRX class, in yoga this evening. I could feel myself in there, fighting, for me:
It's a long road
When you face the world alone
No one reaches out a hand
For you to hold
You can find love
If you search within yourself
And the emptiness you felt
Will disappear
But I guess I gotta keep searching within myself, because I still feel emptiness. I still feel the "how could he have left me?" and "why did I invest so much in something so precarious?" But then how was I to know that love could be precarious? I'm here to say that it can be when you're with someone who only partly surrenders to it, and take it from me, if there's a part of you that knows that's what's happening in your relationship, do yourself a favor and get out now:
Lord knows
Dreams are hard to follow
But don't let anyone
Tear them away
Hold on
There will be tomorrow
In time
You'll find the way
I know that in time I'll find the way, but in the meantime, I'm heading into the holidays more alone than I've been, with the exception of my kids, in my adult life...
Sunday, November 17, 2013
Feel So Close
Last night for dinner, my kids and I decided to go to Luigi's for dinner, a local Italian restaurant with really good pizza. I'd noticed the last time we were there, while I was still eating wheat, that they offer a gluten-free crust for a $5 up-charge, so I was excited to check that out.
When we walked in, a waiter we'd had previously smiled at us and said: "Hi family!" It was friendly enough, but it took me right back to the last time he'd said it, which was when there was still a man in our life and a fourth at our supper table.
After we finished eating, the kids ran outside to play while I waited for the check. When the waiter came over, he asked: "Where's Dad tonight?"
So I explained the situation to him. "'Dad' was my boyfriend, and he moved back to New England, where he'd moved here from to be with us."
"Oh," said the waiter. "So are y'all still together?"
I told him we weren't, that I'm just not a person for whom long distance relationships work well. I want to be physically close to my man, and be able to spend time with him. He said he understood, and felt the same way, and had been trying to break it off with a woman he'd been dating because she lived two hours away.
I'm happy to say at the point now where I can talk about it without crying. I do feel ok about it, overall. It feels good to be clear about my own needs for a change. But I miss having a man around, that's for sure. My daughter and I tried to put the slackline up yesterday that the man we had gave us, but we failed miserably.
Pondering all this, the song that came to me was this one, which my daughter and I heard in the car the other day, and sang together:
I feel so close to you right now
It's a force field
I wear my heart upon my sleeve, like a big deal
Your love pours down on me, surrounds me like a waterfall
And there's no stopping us right now
I feel so close to you right now
And there's no stopping us right now
And there's no stopping us right now
And there's no stopping us right now
I feel so close to you right now...
For now, I feel really close to my kids, and that feels good. My son, especially, works hard to remain close to our departed family member, and he's told me in no uncertain terms that he remains a family member in his eyes.
I'm good with that, but for me, well, I need to make space for a man I can feel so close to, a man with whom nothing's stopping us from having everything we both want and need...
When we walked in, a waiter we'd had previously smiled at us and said: "Hi family!" It was friendly enough, but it took me right back to the last time he'd said it, which was when there was still a man in our life and a fourth at our supper table.
After we finished eating, the kids ran outside to play while I waited for the check. When the waiter came over, he asked: "Where's Dad tonight?"
So I explained the situation to him. "'Dad' was my boyfriend, and he moved back to New England, where he'd moved here from to be with us."
"Oh," said the waiter. "So are y'all still together?"
I told him we weren't, that I'm just not a person for whom long distance relationships work well. I want to be physically close to my man, and be able to spend time with him. He said he understood, and felt the same way, and had been trying to break it off with a woman he'd been dating because she lived two hours away.
I'm happy to say at the point now where I can talk about it without crying. I do feel ok about it, overall. It feels good to be clear about my own needs for a change. But I miss having a man around, that's for sure. My daughter and I tried to put the slackline up yesterday that the man we had gave us, but we failed miserably.
Pondering all this, the song that came to me was this one, which my daughter and I heard in the car the other day, and sang together:
I feel so close to you right now
It's a force field
I wear my heart upon my sleeve, like a big deal
Your love pours down on me, surrounds me like a waterfall
And there's no stopping us right now
I feel so close to you right now
And there's no stopping us right now
And there's no stopping us right now
And there's no stopping us right now
I feel so close to you right now...
For now, I feel really close to my kids, and that feels good. My son, especially, works hard to remain close to our departed family member, and he's told me in no uncertain terms that he remains a family member in his eyes.
I'm good with that, but for me, well, I need to make space for a man I can feel so close to, a man with whom nothing's stopping us from having everything we both want and need...
Saturday, November 16, 2013
Somebody to Shove
Last night while my daughter practiced karate, I went for a run with my friend Slacker. I was already having a really good day, and the run was feeling really good, but hearing this blast from the past song during my run sent me even higher:
Grandfather watches the grandfather clock
And the phone hasn't rang for so long
And the time flies by like a vulture in the sky
Suddenly he breaks into song
I'm waiting by the phone
Waiting for you to call me up and tell me I'm not alone
I'm waiting by the phone
Waiting for you to call me up and tell me I'm not alone
Hello, speak up, is there somebody there?
These hang-ups are getting me down
In a world frozen over with over-exposure
Let's talk it over, let's go out and paint the town
I'm waiting by the phone
Waiting for you to call me up and tell me I'm not alone
Cause I want somebody to shove
I need somebody to shove
I want somebody to shove me
I love this song! It reminds me of my high school mosh pit days -- my friends and I even saw these guys live at one point:
You're a dream for insomniacs, prize in the Cracker Jacks
All the difference in the world is just a call away
And I'm waiting by the phone
Waiting for you to call me up and tell me I'm not alone
Yes I'm waiting by the phone
I'm waiting for you to call me up and tell me I'm not alone
Cause I want somebody to shove
I need somebody to shove
I want somebody to shove me
Yes I want somebody to shove
I need somebody to shove
I want somebody to shove me
I do miss the days of being shoved around while the music blasted, and I sure am grateful to Soul Asylum for taking me back, but I'm also feeling really content with my life right now. I have a lot to be thankful for -- here are just three examples:
1) Tonight for dinner I grilled a skirt steak, made some pinto beans with peppers, roasted broccoli, and greek orzo salad, and my son declared it a feast! Never mind that he ate one bite of steak, one bite of beans, zero bites of broccoli, and lots of orzo, just the fact that he recognized it as a feast was enough to set my heart aloft. Being the good eater that I am, I ate steak and beans and broccoli and it was soooo delicious!
2) Speaking of good eating, I'm off gluten this month in solidarity with my officemate, who has ulcerative colitis. And I can't imagine going back! I feel so much better since I've cut out wheat. I haven't lost any weight, but I've definitely lost inches. My energy level is higher, more even, and lasts longer into the evening. It's such a positive change, and it really hasn't been that hard. Wheat is in a ton of things, but there's still a lot I can have.
3) Both my yoga practice and my return to short runs are going great. I look forward to my practice and feel lucky when I can squeeze in a run. Now, if only I could involve either of my kids in my chosen physical pursuits!
Grandfather watches the grandfather clock
And the phone hasn't rang for so long
And the time flies by like a vulture in the sky
Suddenly he breaks into song
I'm waiting by the phone
Waiting for you to call me up and tell me I'm not alone
I'm waiting by the phone
Waiting for you to call me up and tell me I'm not alone
Hello, speak up, is there somebody there?
These hang-ups are getting me down
In a world frozen over with over-exposure
Let's talk it over, let's go out and paint the town
I'm waiting by the phone
Waiting for you to call me up and tell me I'm not alone
Cause I want somebody to shove
I need somebody to shove
I want somebody to shove me
I love this song! It reminds me of my high school mosh pit days -- my friends and I even saw these guys live at one point:
You're a dream for insomniacs, prize in the Cracker Jacks
All the difference in the world is just a call away
And I'm waiting by the phone
Waiting for you to call me up and tell me I'm not alone
Yes I'm waiting by the phone
I'm waiting for you to call me up and tell me I'm not alone
Cause I want somebody to shove
I need somebody to shove
I want somebody to shove me
Yes I want somebody to shove
I need somebody to shove
I want somebody to shove me
I do miss the days of being shoved around while the music blasted, and I sure am grateful to Soul Asylum for taking me back, but I'm also feeling really content with my life right now. I have a lot to be thankful for -- here are just three examples:
1) Tonight for dinner I grilled a skirt steak, made some pinto beans with peppers, roasted broccoli, and greek orzo salad, and my son declared it a feast! Never mind that he ate one bite of steak, one bite of beans, zero bites of broccoli, and lots of orzo, just the fact that he recognized it as a feast was enough to set my heart aloft. Being the good eater that I am, I ate steak and beans and broccoli and it was soooo delicious!
2) Speaking of good eating, I'm off gluten this month in solidarity with my officemate, who has ulcerative colitis. And I can't imagine going back! I feel so much better since I've cut out wheat. I haven't lost any weight, but I've definitely lost inches. My energy level is higher, more even, and lasts longer into the evening. It's such a positive change, and it really hasn't been that hard. Wheat is in a ton of things, but there's still a lot I can have.
3) Both my yoga practice and my return to short runs are going great. I look forward to my practice and feel lucky when I can squeeze in a run. Now, if only I could involve either of my kids in my chosen physical pursuits!
Friday, November 15, 2013
Wrecking Ball
I'm home with my kids this afternoon, and I was happily cooking them lunch while singing this song, which has been in my head the past few days:
I came in like a wrecking ball
I never hit so hard in love
All I wanted was to break your walls
All you ever did was wreck me
Yeah, you, you wreck me
"Mom! That's Miley Cyrus!" my son said, full of consternation that I should deign to sing such frivolous top 40 music.
"I know, but I like it!" I retorted. And then I watched the video -- wowza! Smokin' hot.
And finally, though the lyrics don't tell the exact story of my last love, the overall tenor of the song is definitely apropos:
We clawed, we chained our hearts in vain
We jumped never asking why
We kissed, I fell under your spell.
A love no one could deny
Don't you ever say I just walked away
I will always want you
I can't live a lie, running for my life
I will always want you
I came in like a wrecking ball
I never hit so hard in love
All I wanted was to break your walls
All you ever did was wreck me
Yeah, you, you wreck me
I put you high up in the sky
And now, you're not coming down
It slowly turned, you let me burn
And now, we're ashes on the ground
Don't you ever say I just walked away
I will always want you
I can't live a lie, running for my life
I will always want you...
I came in like a wrecking ball
I never hit so hard in love
All I wanted was to break your walls
All you ever did was wreck me
Yeah, you, you wreck me
"Mom! That's Miley Cyrus!" my son said, full of consternation that I should deign to sing such frivolous top 40 music.
"I know, but I like it!" I retorted. And then I watched the video -- wowza! Smokin' hot.
And finally, though the lyrics don't tell the exact story of my last love, the overall tenor of the song is definitely apropos:
We clawed, we chained our hearts in vain
We jumped never asking why
We kissed, I fell under your spell.
A love no one could deny
Don't you ever say I just walked away
I will always want you
I can't live a lie, running for my life
I will always want you
I came in like a wrecking ball
I never hit so hard in love
All I wanted was to break your walls
All you ever did was wreck me
Yeah, you, you wreck me
I put you high up in the sky
And now, you're not coming down
It slowly turned, you let me burn
And now, we're ashes on the ground
Don't you ever say I just walked away
I will always want you
I can't live a lie, running for my life
I will always want you...
Thursday, November 14, 2013
Upside Down
 |
| That's one happy cervical spine! |
I'll say, and for my money, few poses are as liberating as headstand. For about five years now, I've been able to do an unsupported headstand (in the middle of the room), and I've never had any issues with it.
All that changed when I started my regular Ashtanga practice. I think there are a couple of factors at work: one being that I've never practiced inversions so frequently before, and the other is the teachers encouraged me to come into headstand by slowly raising both legs rather than kicking one foot up first, and that really threw me off.
Just a few weeks into the regular practice, I started having neck issues. I've read about the problems people have from doing headstands, but hadn't experienced them myself. One night during the neck trouble, I was hanging out with a friend who is a physical therapist. She told me in no uncertain terms that the cervical spine was not meant to bear weight (except for the weight of the head). And the thing is, when you do headstand properly, you don't put more pressure than that on it, but I had been recently, both in trying to get up into it the new way and in trying to lower my legs to 90 degrees, also part of the Ashtanga primary series.
Enter inversion stool. This baby is a dream for going upside down with a happy neck, and it arrived on my doorstep yesterday afternoon!
As I played around with my new toy, Diana Ross started to play on the internal ipod:
I said upside down
You’re turning me
You’re giving love instinctively
Around and round you’re turning me
Upside down you’re turning me
You’re giving love instinctively
Around and round you’re turning me
I see to thee respectfully
Yeah, I cut out all the lyrics about boys. There are no boys turning my world upside down at the moment. Just me, giving myself love instinctually, and seeing to me respectfully with my new inversion stool!
Wednesday, November 13, 2013
Constant Craving
 |
| My Grandpa, breaker of two hearts (my Grandma's and my Dad's) |
Now there's probably more to the story than that, but she was around 40 when that happened, and she never dated anyone again. I remember going to visit my Grandma in her retirement home, where one time I found a little book about how women can live without men and are actually better off. Even as a young girl who hadn't really experienced love, I recognized that as a rationalization rather than a truth*.
I have no doubt that my Grandmother lived a fulfilling life. She was well-liked and was always of great service to her community (first Berkeley, then Oakland when she moved into the retirement home). But I also don't have any doubt that somewhere inside her there was a constant craving that she refused to satisfy and told herself she didn't have because she'd been wounded so badly by her babydaddy.
During some of my darkest moments this summer, I thought about my Grandmother, and it made me all the more resolute that I would get through this heartbreak and go on to the next phase.
I thought about her again when I heard this song last night:
Even through the darkest phase
Be it thick or thin
Always someone marches brave
Here beneath my skin
Constant craving
Has always been
Maybe a great magnet pulls
All souls towards truth
Or maybe it is life itself
That feeds wisdom
To its youth
Constant craving
Has always been
Craving
Ah ha
Constant craving
Has always been
Constant craving
Has always been
Constant craving
Has always been
Craving
Ah ha
Constant Craving
Has always been
Has always been
Has always been
Has always been
Has always been
Has always been
Yep, and as long as I live, I'm going to make sure it always will be, too!
*Just to be clear, when I say that not needing a man is a rationalization, it isn't a commentary on those who partner with their own gender like the uncapitalized artist featured here. It's merely a commentary on opting out of love after being hurt.
Tuesday, November 12, 2013
Take Care of Yourself
This morning on my bike ride to work, it was only 20 degrees, and because it's November 12, I left the house without my heavy-duty winter biking gear. I was cold on my ride, really, really cold. But I tried not to judge that feeling, and instead, just noticed it.
That outlook didn't make my thighs and butt any less chapped when I arrived at the gym to thaw out, but it take make the ride a lot more pleasant. It left room to also notice the sunshine and the feeling I have every single time I get on my bike -- no matter the weather -- the delicious freedom of moving through the world on my own power.
Now that my commute is 6 miles each way rather than 3, my power (aka the size of my butt and thighs) is more formidable than it has ever been. And it's not just my bicycling prowess that's feeling so strong, it's the rest of me, too. All this Ashtanga yoga means my upper body is also at an all-time strong, and that feels really good too.
But it goes beyond physical strength. I experienced a monumental loss this summer, one that at times, I wasn't sure I would survive, or at least, I wasn't sure I would survive with an open heart. But I have survived. And I'm working on keeping my heart open, but I'm not there yet. There's a feeling that I've described before in this blog, a tightness behind my heart. It ebbs and flows, but it hasn't gone away. And that's ok. It tells me I'm still healing. Just like the cold air on my bike ride this morning, I can just notice it. No judgment. (That's always the goal, and at the moment, I actually feel capable of it, which also lets me know I'm healing.)
While eating dinner last night, I was joined by my friends from Glee, and they aptly picked a song (which I believe was originally recorded by Teddy Thompson), that has the same sort of "just notice -- this is how it is -- kind of attitude about letting go of a love:
It's time for us to part
Yeah, it's best for us to part
Oh, but I love you
I love you
Take care of yourself
I'll miss you
The nights are long alone
I sit alone and moan
'Cause I love you
Oooooo, I love you
Take care of yourself
I'll miss you
And no more tears to cry
I'm out of goodbyes
It's time for us to part
Although it breaks my heart
'Cause I love you
I love you
Take care of yourself
Take care of yourself
Take care of yourself
I love you
The song doesn't pretend that it's easy or neat or tidy, and it doesn't pretend that the love goes away. And that pretty much sums it up for me!
That outlook didn't make my thighs and butt any less chapped when I arrived at the gym to thaw out, but it take make the ride a lot more pleasant. It left room to also notice the sunshine and the feeling I have every single time I get on my bike -- no matter the weather -- the delicious freedom of moving through the world on my own power.
Now that my commute is 6 miles each way rather than 3, my power (aka the size of my butt and thighs) is more formidable than it has ever been. And it's not just my bicycling prowess that's feeling so strong, it's the rest of me, too. All this Ashtanga yoga means my upper body is also at an all-time strong, and that feels really good too.
But it goes beyond physical strength. I experienced a monumental loss this summer, one that at times, I wasn't sure I would survive, or at least, I wasn't sure I would survive with an open heart. But I have survived. And I'm working on keeping my heart open, but I'm not there yet. There's a feeling that I've described before in this blog, a tightness behind my heart. It ebbs and flows, but it hasn't gone away. And that's ok. It tells me I'm still healing. Just like the cold air on my bike ride this morning, I can just notice it. No judgment. (That's always the goal, and at the moment, I actually feel capable of it, which also lets me know I'm healing.)
While eating dinner last night, I was joined by my friends from Glee, and they aptly picked a song (which I believe was originally recorded by Teddy Thompson), that has the same sort of "just notice -- this is how it is -- kind of attitude about letting go of a love:
It's time for us to part
Yeah, it's best for us to part
Oh, but I love you
I love you
Take care of yourself
I'll miss you
The nights are long alone
I sit alone and moan
'Cause I love you
Oooooo, I love you
Take care of yourself
I'll miss you
And no more tears to cry
I'm out of goodbyes
It's time for us to part
Although it breaks my heart
'Cause I love you
I love you
Take care of yourself
Take care of yourself
Take care of yourself
I love you
The song doesn't pretend that it's easy or neat or tidy, and it doesn't pretend that the love goes away. And that pretty much sums it up for me!
Monday, November 11, 2013
Real Love
Yesterday during rake-a-thon 2013, I was listening to Slacker to help keep me going. I was listening to the "55 best songs of the 90s" -- which included some really great tunes that brought back a lot of memories.
I love Mary J., but this song, number 55, wasn't one that I was particularly excited to hear:
We are lovers through and through and though
We made it through the storm
I really want you to realize
I really want to put you on
I've been searchin' for someone
To satisfy my every need
Won't you be my inspiration
Be the real love that I need
Real love, I'm searchin' for a real love
Someone to set my heart free
Real love, I'm searchin' for a real love
Not when I heard it the first time:
Ooh, when I met you I just knew
That you would take my heart and run
Until you told me how you felt for me
You said I'm not the one
So I slowly came to see
All of the things that you were made of
And now I hope my dreams and inspirations
Lead me to want some real love
Real love, I'm searchin' for a real love
Someone to set my heart free
Real love, I'm searchin' for a real love
I got to have a real love
Or the second time:
Love so true and oh baby, I thought that your love was true
I thought you were the answer to the questions in my mind
But it seems that I was wrong
If I stay strong maybe I'll find my real love
So I try my best and pray to God
He'll send me someone real
To caress me and to guide me
Towards a love my heart can feel
Now, I know I can be faithful
I can be your all in all
I'll give you good lovin' through
The summer time, winter, spring and fall
Real love, I'm searchin' for a real love
Someone to set my heart free
Real love, I'm searchin' for a real love
And definitely not the third time - - for some reason the top 55 just kept starting over -- and it started feeling like Mary J. had a message for me, whether I wanted it or not:
You see I'm searching for a real love and I don't know where to go
(Real love, I'm searchin' for a real love)
Been around the world and high and low and still I'll never know
(Someone to set my heart free)
How it feels to have a real love 'cause it seems it's not around
(Real love, I'm searchin' for a real love)
Gotta end it in this way because it seems he can't be found
Real love, I'm searchin' for a real love
Someone to set my heart free
Real love, I'm searchin' for a real love
Yes I am...
I love Mary J., but this song, number 55, wasn't one that I was particularly excited to hear:
We are lovers through and through and though
We made it through the storm
I really want you to realize
I really want to put you on
I've been searchin' for someone
To satisfy my every need
Won't you be my inspiration
Be the real love that I need
Real love, I'm searchin' for a real love
Someone to set my heart free
Real love, I'm searchin' for a real love
Not when I heard it the first time:
Ooh, when I met you I just knew
That you would take my heart and run
Until you told me how you felt for me
You said I'm not the one
So I slowly came to see
All of the things that you were made of
And now I hope my dreams and inspirations
Lead me to want some real love
Real love, I'm searchin' for a real love
Someone to set my heart free
Real love, I'm searchin' for a real love
I got to have a real love
Or the second time:
Love so true and oh baby, I thought that your love was true
I thought you were the answer to the questions in my mind
But it seems that I was wrong
If I stay strong maybe I'll find my real love
So I try my best and pray to God
He'll send me someone real
To caress me and to guide me
Towards a love my heart can feel
Now, I know I can be faithful
I can be your all in all
I'll give you good lovin' through
The summer time, winter, spring and fall
Real love, I'm searchin' for a real love
Someone to set my heart free
Real love, I'm searchin' for a real love
And definitely not the third time - - for some reason the top 55 just kept starting over -- and it started feeling like Mary J. had a message for me, whether I wanted it or not:
You see I'm searching for a real love and I don't know where to go
(Real love, I'm searchin' for a real love)
Been around the world and high and low and still I'll never know
(Someone to set my heart free)
How it feels to have a real love 'cause it seems it's not around
(Real love, I'm searchin' for a real love)
Gotta end it in this way because it seems he can't be found
Real love, I'm searchin' for a real love
Someone to set my heart free
Real love, I'm searchin' for a real love
Yes I am...
Sunday, November 10, 2013
Falling (Death of a Tree)
When I bought this house, one of the photos that the realtor showed me was of the red maple tree in bloom in the backyard. The picture was nice, but it was late November and all the leaves were down, so it was pretty hard to imagine what it would really be like.
I'm here to say it really, truly is magnificent, and worth every bit of yard work that it and its many tree friends in my much-bigger-than-at-my-old-house yard produce:
I heard a beautiful song the other day that is nearly perfect for marking this day -- I say nearly because luckily, my tree isn't dead:
I'll awake to find your love
Falling like leaves to the ground
I'll awake to find your love, falling like leaves
You will look to find me down upon my knees
Without a sound
You will look to find me
Down upon my knees
I'm not sure I really understand this song, but it seems to speak to my experience in my last relationship. Although I didn't literally get down on my knees, I did hang it all out there, and even proposed at one point:
Then we can fling wide the gates
Let go the last of our hate then we can sigh
Like the cool clear wind up high through the sky above
Then we can say we're in love
And we did say we were in love, from the first weekend we spent together when the leaves were just beginning to change in the East:
Then we can rest mortal eyes
Laugh as we run out of temporal breath
Then we can move, we can sing, we can tremble
Like birds through the sky above
Then we can say we're in love
Yep, we were able to do all those things, and yet, our love, like the leaves of the red maple -- as majestic as it was -- eventually fell...
I'm here to say it really, truly is magnificent, and worth every bit of yard work that it and its many tree friends in my much-bigger-than-at-my-old-house yard produce:
 |
| Here's the view from my living room window |
 |
| Here's the tree in all its glory |
 |
| When most of the leaves fell, they made a gorgeous ground cover... |
 |
| But the tree, all ready for winter, is not nearly as photo-worthy! |
I'll awake to find your love
Falling like leaves to the ground
I'll awake to find your love, falling like leaves
You will look to find me down upon my knees
Without a sound
You will look to find me
Down upon my knees
I'm not sure I really understand this song, but it seems to speak to my experience in my last relationship. Although I didn't literally get down on my knees, I did hang it all out there, and even proposed at one point:
Then we can fling wide the gates
Let go the last of our hate then we can sigh
Like the cool clear wind up high through the sky above
Then we can say we're in love
And we did say we were in love, from the first weekend we spent together when the leaves were just beginning to change in the East:
Then we can rest mortal eyes
Laugh as we run out of temporal breath
Then we can move, we can sing, we can tremble
Like birds through the sky above
Then we can say we're in love
Yep, we were able to do all those things, and yet, our love, like the leaves of the red maple -- as majestic as it was -- eventually fell...
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